


Prince of Thieves

by Alaya



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adopted Stiles, Allison and Stiles are Siblings, F/F, F/M, M/M, Monarchy, Scallison, Scott and Stiles are Brothers, Slow Build, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Stealing, Stiles is a thief, Thief Stiles, Uprising, battles, cop Derek, so is jackson and lydia, sterek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-28
Packaged: 2018-02-27 03:13:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 4,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2676878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alaya/pseuds/Alaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time, King John and Melissa Stilinski welcomed their second child into the world. He was named after the Queen's father, Genim. The country was in turmoil with constant attacks from Gerard Argent, former consultant of the King. The King and Queen sent away their two sons, Genim and Scott, to keep them safe, but on their way out of the country, their car was ransacked by thieves. Scott kept crying so the thieves took Genim instead. Against their family's wishes, the thieves decided to raise him as a son, a brother for their daughter. That couple's name was Victoria and Chris Argent. Together, they raised the boy, now named Stiles, to be a thief along with his sister, Allison. All the while, his parents and brother mourned the loss of him. Long live the Prince of Thieves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Spark

**Author's Note:**

> There may be some notes of MTV's Finding Carter. I do not own Teen Wolf or any of the character. Unbeta'd. Please comment and review.

                  A girl strides into a lightly lit room, the heels of her boots clacking against the hard floor. Long dark tresses follow each other down her face and past her shoulders. Her eyes described, often, as chocolate brown orbs. She appears to be slender with muscles being hidden underneath her clothing.

              “Hey, Stiles.”

               “No.”

                Allison pouts at her younger brother’s rudeness at her presence. He continues his push-ups and if she never walked in. If there is one thing that Allison hates the most, it’s being ignored. “All I said was ‘Hey’ “.

                Stiles decides to end his workout early and pads over to the opposite corner of the room to wipe the sweat from his chest. With his back turned to Allison, Stiles sighs as he begins, “’Hey’ never means just hey to you, especially when your that cheerful. This usually means that you want to do something with me. More often than not this ‘something’ is something dangerous and tiresome. Then when it all goes wrong in the end, I am the one that takes the blame.”

                “That won’t happen because it’s my plan,” says a voice from beyond the shadows. Stiles turns around and his golden eyes land on the one and only, Lydia Martin. With her strawberry hair and her amazing IQ, she was often dubbed “The Bitch in the Skirt”. For a long time, she appealed to Stiles and he wanted nothing more than to be her knight in shining armor.  Then, she got with Jackson “Jackass” Whittemore and Stiles had no choice but to get over it. Even he’ll admit that the two belonged together.

                “Why would I agree to a plan that you came up with?”

                “Because I am the smartest person you know.”

                “And the plan gets us big bucks.” Jackson stands beside Lydia, giving off the air that he just did not give a damn about Stiles.

                “And why would I work with you?”

                Jackson gives Stiles his signature bitch face and says, “Honestly, I’d rather stab myself in the eye, repeatedly, with a blunt, crooked fork than work with you, but it’s Lydia's plan and the plan is fool proof.”

                “Good, we didn’t want you to go and hurt yourself.”

                Jackson growls and advances towards Stiles but before he could reach Stiles, Allison and Lydia intervene and come between the two. Lydia looks between the two and asks, “Are you two done acting like a couple of elementary school brats?”

                Lydia stares down Jackson until he responds, “Yes”. Allison does the same with Stiles.

                “Good.” Lydia walks to Stiles and looking him in the eyes, she says, “The reason we need you is because you’re not stupid- most of the time. Only with you is this plan fool proof. You think fast and you are quick on your feet. Allison is not enough alone. No offence. We need you.”

                After those last three words, Stiles knew that he couldn’t walk away from the trio. Plus, he couldn’t let Allison go on a mission alone when he knows that it would fail. Their parents would kill him.

                Stiles looks at the trio and lets out an exasperated puff of air. “What’s the plan?”

                Lydia lets out a slow, menacing smile as she says, "We’re going to rob the national bank.”


	2. The Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plan wasn't so foolproof.

“He can’t do it.”

“For the millionth time, shut up Jackson! Stiles knows what he’s doing.” Allison is now regretting getting paired up with Jackson. Like he was one of her best friends, but he was such a little bitch when he got paranoid.

                “I’m in the vault room.” Stiles says over the communication earpieces. Jackson lets out a relieved sigh.

                “What? Were you doubting my plan,” Lydia asks from the room above the Allison and Jackson.

                “Of course not, babe.”

                Lydia rolls her eyes and goes back to monitoring the computers with the two continuing to keep watch. After a few beats, Lydia’s panicked voice is heard in the earpieces. “Um, guys. We have a problem.”

                “What do you mean ‘a problem’? I’m almost in the vault” Stiles says.

                Allison and Jackson rush to Lydia to find out the problem. “What is it,” Allison asks in a panicked tone.

                “Someone is overriding me.”

                Confused, Jackson asks, “What?”

                Lydia gives him an annoyed look and explains, “The hack I did to disable the security cameras are being unhacked.”

                “Is there anything you can do?”

                “Well,” Lydia starts to tap multiple keys on the keyboard, until responding with a defeated, “No”.

                “What do we do,” Allison whispers.

                In a panic, Lydia gets up from her chair and says, “We need to get out of here, now.”

                “Wait, what about Stiles? I’m not leaving him!”

                “Well, you don’t have much a choice”, Jackson says as he grabs Allison by the arm and drags her out of the room, behind Lydia.

                “I’m in.”

                Stiles receives no response from the earpiece. “Guys? Do you hear me?” Nothing.

                Stiles doesn’t know what to think so he continues on with the plan. He starts placing stacks of money into the duffel bags until he hears the bank alarms go off.

                “Shit!”

                Stiles takes the bags and starts to run. The bank’s lights are flashing and he can hear heavy footfalls chasing after him. Stiles runs to an intersection of corridors and pauses for he doesn’t remember which way he was supposed to go.

                “Lydia, which corridor do I use?” Nothing. “Lydia!” Nothing. “Jackson!” Nothing. “Allison!” Nothing.

                Just then, with the force of a brick wall, Stiles comes crashing down to the floor with a man on his back. “Freeze,” says the man. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law…”

                _A foolproof plan, huh?_ Stiles thinks. 


	3. Burnout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is interrogated by Peter.

_Don’t fight. Don’t resist. Mom and Dad will come for you._ Stiles kept repeating this mantra to himself, but it did little to ease the worry. As time went on in the jail cell, he felt more and more alone. _How could they leave me? My own sister left me. So much for family._

Stiles doesn’t pay much attention when a cop opens the jail cell opens. “Stiles Argent.”

            “What? Do I finally get my one phone call?”

            The cop looks at Stiles. It’s the same one that arrested him. Big, bad and broody. He had dark hair and emerald eyes, built like a brick house. Stiles could think of more than one thing that he would like to do to him. The cop eyes him up and down, “Follow me.”

            Stiles follows the cop out of the cell and through the precinct. The cop welcomes him into a gray room that only contains a table and two chairs. No windows. One of the chairs already occupied an older, but very handsome man. Light brown hair, devious eyes, and quite built but not like Stiles’ cop. Stiles is motioned to sit down in one of the chairs while Officer Sexy leaves.

            A minute goes by and all Mr. Handsome does is look through a file. As time wears on, Stiles gets more and more uncomfortable and fidgety. “So,” Stiles begins. “You know my name so it’s only fair that I know yours.”

            Mr. Handsome smirks at Stiles and staring into his eyes, he says, “You’re a little punk ass thief. What do you know about fair?” He goes back looking through the file and after awhile, he says, “I am Chief Officer Peter Hale. The cop that arrested you was my nephew, Officer Derek Hale.”

            _Derek, huh?_ As Stiles mulls over the name, he doesn’t listen as Peter speaks. “I’m sorry, what?”

            Peter huffs. “You? Sorry? That’s funny… I asked what were the names of your accomplices?”

            “Wow, blunt much?” Stiles leans in and looks Peter straight in the eyes. “In what universe would I tell you?”

            Peter leans back, “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because they left you alone to fend for yourself. They abandoned you. Let you take the fall. They were saving their own asses and left you to burn alive. Why wouldn’t you want revenge? Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

            “Honor.”

            “Honor? What kind of honor could you possibly possess? I know your family. You rob your people and start riots and uprisings. You and your family are the reason why this country is falling apart.”

            “Why, Chief Hale, I feel like you have a special, more personal feeling of hatred for me.” Stiles smirks, happy that he got under Peter’s skin.

            “Oh, I do. Your Aunt Kate? Yeah, she burned my family alive,” Peter snarled. Every ounce of mockery left the room. “It is my personal mission to have every single one of you Argents behind bars or in the grave.”

            The two stare each other down until there is a knock at the door. Derek Hale walks through the door and, without glancing once at Stiles, whispers something in Peter’s ear. “What?” Peter hisses. Derek hands Peter another file and walks out the door.

            Peter, quickly, flips through the file, eyes moving a mile per minute.

            Moments pass until Stiles can no longer take the silence. “There a problem?”


	4. Extinguish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles learns the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Temporarily, this is going to be MTV's Finding Carter-esque (Great show, you should check it out). I don't own the characters of Teen Wolf.

“Stiles Argent. That’s such an odd name, isn’t it?”

            “Um, I- I guess,” Stiles stammers, confused at the change of topic. _What is his game?_ Stiles wondered.

            “Is it short for anything?”

            “No.”

            Peter stands and starts circling the room like an apex predator. “How did your parents come up with the name?”

            “I don’t know”, Stiles shrugged. “I guess it just came to them.”

            Peter lowers his head and chuckles. There was obviously something that he knew that Stiles didn’t. Sick and tired of his game, Stiles spits, “Is there something you want to tell me?”

            “Oh, yes. I very much do, but it’s not my job to. It’s his.” Peter motions to the black man who walked into the room. He was bald, not too tall, and had a bit of a beard. He walked into the room with a bag of chips and a soda.

            “Ah, hello Stiles,” the man greets. He takes the seat that was formally Peter’s and slides the snacks to Stiles. “Thought you might be hungry.”

            Stiles eyes the offerings and then the man. “You were wrong. Now, cut the bullshit and tell me what’s going on.”

            “Stiles, my name is Dr. Deaton and I need to ask you a few questions.”

            “I was alone in the bank. There was nobo-“

            “This isn’t about the bank. It’s about you, personally.”

            “What? Are you some kind of criminal profiler?”

            “No. Stiles, do you know your bloody type?”

“Type B.”

“How old are you?”

            “19.”

            “When’s your birthday?”

            “September 21, 1995.”

            Peter stands behind Deaton’s chair and smirking at Stiles, he asks, “Are you sure?”

            Confused, Stiles asks, “What do you mean am I sure? Of course I’m sure.” Stiles looks back and forth between Peter and Deaton, the latter with a cautious expression on is face.

            “Stiles, Stiles is technically not your name.”  
            “What?”

            Peter decides now is the time to pipe up, “Your name is not your name. Your home is not your home. And your family? Oh, they are definitely not your family.”


	5. Evaporate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles learns who he truly is.

            “Wha- What are you talking about?” Stiles rises from his chair, furious that this creep of a cop could mock him like that.

            Deaton turns to give an exasperated look at Peter and returns his gaze to Stiles. “Please, Stiles, sit down.”

            “No! Who the fuck do you two think you are? Is this some kind of joke to you?”

            Peter tosses the folder Derek gave him earlier to Stiles and Deaton explains, “Your blood type is not the same as the rest of your family’s.”

            Stiles holds the folder and stares at Deaton. “Yeah, so? I’m sure that is a common thing.”

            “Not too common. Appearance wise, one can tell you don’t share the same genes… And there’s another thing.”

            “What?”  
            “You’re finger print matched a profile in our data base.”

            “What are you talking about? This is my first arrest.” _Holy crap, they found one of my fingerprints at a past heist. Yup, I’m going to prison longer than I thought._

“You’re fingerprints matched an Amber Alert from 20 years ago for Genim Stilinski… Prince Genim Stilinski.”

             “There’s some mistake.”

            “Nope,” Peter says, popping the p.

            “Peter,” Deaton warns. “Stiles-“

            “Either take me to prison or take me home.” Stiles refused to look either man in the eyes.

            “We can’t take you home, that is not your real home. And we can’t take you to prison… under the command of the King.”

            Stiles looks at Deaton, eyes widening. “What?”

            “The King, your real father, and the rest of your family knows you’re here. And they’ve come for you.” As soon as Deaton finishes, there is clamor going on on the other side of the door. Stiles could hear a muffled masculine voice and another, softer, voice.

            “No,” Stiles backs away from the table and cowers into the corner of the room. “I’m not ready. I’m not ready!”  
            The door bursts open and a man and woman run into the room, with Derek trailing behind. It was obvious that he was trying to keep the two outside. The man was tall, with brown hair and eyes that matched Stiles’, the King. The woman was shorter, with curly black hair and a soft, motherly face, the Queen. The King looked pissed off when he entered the room, but as soon as he laid eyes on Stiles, his expression changed.

            The King and Queen rush to Stiles and the Queen throws her arms around Stiles’ neck. “Oh, Genim,” she exclaims, crying into his shoulder.

            “It’s you,” the King whispered, looking Stiles up and down. “You’re alive.”

            The Queen releases her grip on Stiles and wipes her tears away. She looks him in the eye and asks, “Do you remember us?”

            Stiles looks at the two and felt a pang of familiarity. “No,” he whispers. The Queen begins to cry again. “Well, yes. Kind of. You are my King and Queen.”

            The King grabs Stiles by his elbows and says, “We’re your parents, Genim. We’re here to take you home.”


	6. Exhaust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles talks with John and Melissa.

                “I want these people found and arrested,” King Stilinski – Stiles dad – John, said into his cell phone. Stiles was with the King and Q- John and Melissa in the back of a limo, returning home, their home. Stiles sits facing the other two, Melissa smiling at him the whole time, shedding a tear every once and awhile.

                _What the fuck is happening to me?_ Stiles starts to jiggle his knee in nervousness. Melissa places a hand on Stiles’ knee as John finishes up his phone call. “Everything will be fine. We’re just happy you’re with us again, Genim.” She smiles reassuringly and she rubs his knee.

                “Those people will be caught and persecuted.  Did they honestly think they wouldn’t get away with kidnapping my child,” John sneers.

                Fury rises within Stiles, hearing John talk about his parents this way. “Those _people_ are my parents, my family and how dare you speak of them that way!”

                John’s face darkens, “We’re your family. They took you away from us and they will be punished for it.”

                “Does what I want mean nothing?”

                “Of course it does, Genim,” Melissa says.

                “Then call me Stiles. My name is Stiles.”

                John looks taken aback and says, “Absolutely no-“

                “Stiles it is, then,” Melissa cuts in, giving John a pointed glance.

                “Thank you, Melissa.”

                “You can call me mom.”

                “I would prefer not.”

                John stares at Stiles as Melissa holds her hands out in surrender. “One step at a time.”

                The car comes to a stop and the driver, Ennis, comes to open the door. The head of royal security, Deucalion, stood waiting outside. John and Melissa step out of the car while Stiles makes no move to. Melissa peaks inside,” Come on, don’t be afraid.”

                Stiles slowly steps out the car and gasps at the sight. “Welcome home, Stiles.”


	7. Castle on a Cloud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles comes home and finally meets his brother.

The castle was bigger than what the pictures in the news made it to be. It was gray, but not gloomy and so tall that Stiles thought it might even touch the heavens. The grounds consisted of other houses, probably for guests or something, and a perfectly cut lawn. The house was surrounded by a weird purple flower.

                Melissa catches Stiles staring at the flowers. “Aconit Napel Bleu Nordique,” she says, “Nordic Blue Monkshood. Pretty isn’t it?”

                Stiles remains silent and drinks in the sight around him. Melissa and John start to walk up the path of the house. John turns around, “Genim, come.” Stiles purposely refuses to move. Melissa swats John on the arm and gives him an annoyed look. John huffs, “Stiles, will you please come with us?” Pleased, Stiles follows behind with Deucalion treading him from behind.

                The inside was even more beautiful than the outside. A delicate crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, the carpets were soft and beige, the same color as the walls with a two staircases ending on opposite sides of the room.

                “So, what do you think, Stiles? Do you like it,” Melissa asks tentively, worried over Stiles’ silence. Everyone looks at Stiles expectantly for his reaction.

                Stiles takes a step forward. “This isn’t real.” He turns to take in the room, “stuff like this just doesn’t exist for people like me.”

                John steps up to Stiles and smiles, “It does in our world.”

                Before Stiles could respond, a boy about the same age as him with dark hair and a goofy grin runs down a staircase and tackles him into a hug. “Genim,” he exclaims.

                “Um, hi,” Stiles awkwardly says. _This is just weird._

                The boy grabs him by the shoulders and looks at him with his big goofy smile, “Don’t you remember me?”

                “Prince Scott?”

                Scott slumped his shoulders and his smile disappeared. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

                “No, but I know a bit from the newspapers.”

                Scott perked up  and his goofy smile returned, “Well, you’re back now and we will change all of that. Come on, let me show you to your room, Genim.”

                “Stiles.”

                “What?”

                “My name is Stiles.”

                Scott turns his head to look at his parents for confirmation. Melissa nods and John looks at Scott. “Okay, let’s go, Stiles.” Scott grabs Stiles hands and leads him back up the staircase.


	8. Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles' first morning home.

Sunlight danced through the window onto Stiles’ sleeping face. Stiles sighs in contempt and rolls onto his side. _What?_ Waking with a jolt, Stiles looked around the unfamiliar bedroom. _So it wasn’t a dream._ Stiles begins to recall the previous day’s events when  there is a knock on his door. “Come in.”

                In walks Melissa with a tray full of food. “I didn’t know what you wanted so I just had the cook make a bit of everything.”

                _Oh yeah, royalty._ “The cook doesn’t surprise me. You delivering food instead of a butler does.”

                “We didn’t want to overwhelm you.” Melissa walks toward the bed and places the tray in Stiles’ lap. “Is this okay?”

                “Yeah, thanks,” Stiles replies. Melissa grabs the back of Stiles’ head to plant a kiss on his forehead, but Stiles’ turns away. Not even his mother did that.

                “Sorry,” Melissa replies, sheepishly.

                “It’s okay.”

                Melissa smiles at Stiles and sits on the bed. “So, tell me. How do you usually spend your days? Do you have a job or go to school?”

                _I enjoy pickpocketing with my sister in my spare time._ “No, nothing. I would usually just spend time with my family.” Stiles doesn’t think before he speaks. Melissa’s smile wavers, but she keeps up the façade. “Sorry,” Stiles apologizes.

                “No,” she pats his leg. “It’s alright.”

                There is an awkward silence. “Can I ask you a question,” Stiles asks.

                “You just did,” Melissa laughs. “What is it?”

                “What happens now?”

                “What do you mean?”

                “Do I go to prison or…?”

                “No, we talked to the judge and you were not in your right mind. Stiles, you were taken as a baby and brainwashed. That can’t be held against you in the court of law. You’re father – John – and I took legal guardianship over you to override the charges.”

                “Oh,” Stiles mulls this over. “Thanks, I guess.”

                “It’s fine.”

                There is another knock at the door, interrupting the conversation. Scott peaks through the door. “Oh, sorry. I was just – I was just wondering if you would like to go out with me and my friends tonight.”

                “Oh, honey,” Melissa looks at Scott. “You two can’t go out tonight.”

                “Why not,” a bewildered Scott asks.

                 “Well,” she turns to Stiles, “Tonight is your welcome home party.”


	9. Work It Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott and Stiles work out together, while Scott grills Stiles about his life.

                When Melissa leaves the room, Scott also turns to leave. “Hey, umm…,” Stiles tries to think.

                “Scott,” Scott says.

                “Scott, is there a gym nearby?”

                “Yeah, we have one out back. Didn’t know you liked to work out. I’ll do it with you.”

                “Yeah, sure.” Stiles climbs out of the bed, leaving the untouched food and realizes that he doesn’t know which door is his closet. Then, an even bigger dilemma hit him. “I… I don’t have any clothes.”

                “Oh, that’s not a problem, FInstock and Greenburg can go get you some.”

                “Finstock and Greenburg?”

                “Yeah, Finstock is my- our dad’s handler and Greenburg is his assistant. Finstock hates him so he usually keeps him busy running errands.”

                “If he hates him, why does he keep him around?”

                “Oh, Greenburg is his brother-in-law,” Scott chuckles. “If he fired Greenburg, he’d never get laid again. So I’ll call Greenburg and you can borrow some of my clothes until your closet is stocked.” Scott begins to walk out the room and then turns around, “Do you need just shorts and shoes or-“

                “Just that,” Stiles quickly replies.

                “Oh, okay.” Scott walks out of the room, leaving Stiles alone.

               

 

                The two work out in the gym outback, equipped with the newest and greatest machines. All the while, Scott asking Stiles a million questions.

                “Favorite videogame?”

                “Call of Duty: Black Ops.”

                “Favorite food?”

                “Cheeseburgers and curly fries.”

                “Do you have a girlfriend?”

                “No.”

                “… What was your family like?”

                Stiles stops lifting weights and turns to Scott, who’s still lifting weights, trying to pretend as if he didn’t care. Stiles begins, “My mom’s name is Victoria. She tends to scare a lot of people. She’s a teacher. My dad, Chris, runs the family consultant business. He used to be an arms dealer, but then, some things happened and… he couldn’t do that anymore. They were intense, but they loved me.. and my sister.”

                At this, Scott stopped. “You have a sister?”

                “Yeah, her name is Allison. She’s great… we did just about everything together.” _Except leave that bank together._

                Scott’s demeanor changes and he stands to leave. “Well, sorry you had to leave her.”

                Before Stiles could process Scott’s change of mood, the door to the gym slammed shut.


	10. The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles goes to the royal party.

                “Wow.” Stiles walked out of his walk in bathroom into his bedroom. He is staring at the outfit for the party hosted that night. There was a red vest, white pressed shirt, red slacks, a red bow tie and black dress shoes.

                There’s a knock on Stiles’ door and in peaks an older man with curly black hair and dark brown eyes surrounded with crows feet. “Hello, Prince Stilinski.”

                Stiles holds up his hand. “Please, call me Stiles.”

                The man smiles and walks in, “Ah, okay, Stiles. I’m Bobby Finstock, but everyone calls me Finstock.” The man notices Stiles still in his towel. “Um, I can leave. I was just going to ask if everything was alright with your outfit?”

                “Yeah, it’s great. Red is my favorite color. Thanks.”  
                “No problem,” Finstock says. He bows and then walks out of the room.

 

                _This is the most boring thing ever._ Stiles hates the party. It doesn’t even deserve the title. The parties he’s used to is loud music, people dancing like there’s no tomorrow, laughter and screaming. All this is is people fake smiling at each other, talking quietly so as not to be louder than the piano playing.

                From across the ballroom, Stiles spots Scott speaking to two other girls and walks toward them. “Scott,” Stiles calls, remembering their last encounter.

                Scott and the girls look at Stiles and Scott walks up to him, leaving the girls behind. “Yeah?”

                “Can we talk about earlier?”

                “What do you mean?”  
                “I mean, you asked me about my family and then you started acting weird, as if I pissed you off. You are the one that asked, I just answered.”

                Scott sighs and runs his hand through his black hair. “Yeah, I know. It’s just that…. When you started talking about them, you got this look of happiness on your face and all this time… Stiles, we thought you were dead and a piece of me just wished that your life without us, without me, was the same hell as mine.”

                Stiles stares at Scott, surprised that all of that came from him. “Wow, I’m sorry.”

                “Don’t be. I overreacted. Forget about it,” Scott smiles that puppy like smile of his. “Come and meet my friends.”

                Scott leads Stiles to the two girls, now conversing. One girl is Asian with shoulder length black hair and eyes that seemed to catch fire, dressed in a golden dress. Scott introduced her as Kira Yukimura and the other girl, the one with long brown hair and devious eyes and dressed in a beige dressed, was Malia Hale.

                “Hale? Like Peter and Derek Hale?”

                “Ah, yes,” Malia says as she swipes away a strand of hair in her face. “Derek is my cousin and Peter is, technically, my father.”

                “Technically?”

                “I think to qualify as a father you actually have to be around to raise the child instead of only sending a check in the mail every month,” Malia says. Kira grabs her hand and starts to stroke it with her thumb.

                “Oh,” Stiles looks around at the group. “So you two,” he motions between Kira and Malia, “Are together?”

                “Yeah,” Kira says, cheerfully,

                “IS that a problem for you,” Malia asks, defensively.  The air between the four of them changes and each one of them is at a standstill.

                “Yeah, it is,” Stiles says. Scott looks at Stiles, wide eyed.

                “Oh, really?” Malia pushes a shocked and scared Kira behind her and steps up into Stiles face. “And why’s that,” she growls.

                “Oh, you know. I was kind of looking for fifty different ways to convince you I am the man of your dreams and you just completely crushed it. Like when I walked in here, my self esteem was this tall,” Stiles raises a hand above his head, “And now you reduced it to,” Stiles lowers his hand to inch above the floor. “Like couldn’t you have just chopped of my dick and put it in one of these shmucks martini glasses?”

                Malia stares at Stiles and slowly smiles a wolfish grin. Kira begins to laugh as Scott lets out a breath that he didn’t even know he was holding. Malia backs up and points at Stiles, “I like you.”

                “Thanks, I like me, too. Thank you Dr. Vodka.” Stiles chuckles and runs his hand through his hair. “No offense, Scott, but these family parties are beyond lame.”

                “Yeah, I know.”

                “Hey, guys,” Kira smirks, “You wanna get out of here?”

                Scott and Stiles both look at each other and shit-eating grins come over both of their faces. They both turn to the girls and in unison, say, “Let’s get out of here.” 


End file.
